


Goodbye My Sweet

by darthbinks



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, I had to write this, I hope something like this happened canonically, Shit broke my heart when Rey puts on this heroine mask in the falcon, a mask, cuz we all know that's what it was, this is just a one-shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 08:38:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13454520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthbinks/pseuds/darthbinks
Summary: Before jettisoning off the Supremacy, Rey must say her goodbyes





	Goodbye My Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> I love that Rian left this bit to the viewers interpretation so much

_' No, no. You're still—holding on! '_

  
_' Let go. '_

  
_' You're nothing... '_

 

 

A slurred reality slowly revealed itself in flickering firelight that reflected on the glistening floor. She could be forgiven for first mistaking this as the innocent ripples of gentle Takodanan waters, swaying to the romance of a dusky evening, for the truth was not one she sympathised with.

 

 _' But not to me, '_   she heard him say, some place far away, where perhaps such saccharine words were ushered not in the pursuit of tyranny but something much more personal.

 

Rey stifled a croak of hurt, swallowed it so that she could face the man without cracking again.

 

However, when her eyes fell over a limp mound of black apparel, she let that pent up pain hiccup out. It was shocking to see him this way; this man, the likes of which had just slain his master and orchestrator of suffering and dissentience in the galaxy, who had exhibited the power to overcome the grandest manipulation she had ever seen—seemed so incredibly blameless and vulnerable, laying there, almost trusting of whomever might happen upon him.

 

She might have feared he were dead or badly wounded, if not for the humming connection between them, singing wordless sonnets on the theme of him and relaying sensations to her own being. But he was injured—just not physically.

 

Rey pressed her lips together as she beheld him and quietly came to his side.

 

"Oh, Ben."

 

The words almost echoed phantoms of those who had sighed them before her. She smiled, her fingers reaching to curl his matted, sweaty hair out of his face.

 

"You'll find your way, I believe that." She told him tenderly, "But I can't do it for you. No one can."

 

Across from them, his burning saber was still embedded in the corpse of a red guard, sputtering sparks like blood from an artery. She gingerly retrieved it and thumbed the ignition stud, quelling the blade and it's guttural goading. For a moment she stood above him with the hilt in her hand, remembering the vision of Luke in much the same position. Briefly, she allowed herself to imagine if none of that had happened—if none of this had happened, where they would all be. If she would still be a scavenger of Jakku. A nobody.

 

Then she knelt down and clipped it to his belt. Her touch lingered on his shoulder, she didn't want to leave. But Rey knew that she had to.

 

"Goodbye, Ben." She veritably choked out.

 

When her fingers drifted from the solid warmth that was he, she immediately felt the loss. It were as though the force knew this was valediction, and it vehemently protested. The only thing that convinced her to keep walking, to keep splitting this wound—this abject wrongness she felt with her actions, was the belief that he would save himself.

 

And so she held faith. As she sat in the gun well of the Falcon, taking down TIEs left and right, the split halves of the Skywalker saber in her lap like a metaphor for what she clung to. Held it so close to her heart, sheltered it from any who would seek to destroy it.

 

And carried on.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
